I could help Rose Tyler with her homework
by greenfairy13
Summary: Eleven meets Rose Tyler after her trip to France and figures out he will meet her younger self eventually. Despite knowing how the love story with his girl ends he jumps in. Some things are just worth getting you heart broken for. Warnings: Swearing and I assume the characters do more than just kissing;) This story will be timey-whimey. Give it a try;)
1. Professor Smith

"Professor Smith," A familiar voice calls out, a voice with the power to shake him to his core.

He recognizes that voice immediately. As if he could ever forget the sound of that voice. This sound is burnt into his mind and not even the merciless stream of time can erase the memory of this voice from his memory. Yet, he didn't expect to hear her voice again. It's a mistake to hear her and he throws some cash at the table, stands up and wants to leave. Well - fleeing is the more accurate term but it's too late. As usually. The Time Lord always runs out of time. It's quite ironic to think about it.

The music gets louder. He's a wee bit dizzy from the alcohol. Even Time Lords feel something after having an entire bottle of vodka. Lousy Earth-booze: he has to drink ridiculous amounts to stone his brilliant brain out. The place smells bad to his superior senses: human arousal, spilled beer, cigarettes and from the loo drifts the smell of vomit into his nostrils. It's forgotten when she approaches and the well-known scent of her coconut-vanilla shampoo fills his nose and blocks the other odours out. He has bought her the shampoo. To him hundreds of years have past since that day. To her? Not more than a few weeks, if not only days.

Speaking of ironic: the song they are currently playing couldn't be more fitting and the Doctor wants to bark out with laughter. Wants to roll around on the floor holding his stomach.

"Hey Ya" is banging out of the speakers but it's not the cheerful, carefree version from Outkast. No, it's a cover version he knows because she made him watch the series that used this specific version of the song in one of the episodes. "Scrubs" the series is called and he remembers laughing with her over the main character: a clueless, clumsy doctor. A guy in love with his blonde colleague all the time but never admitting his feelings properly until it's almost too late. But only almost, cause at the end the doctor from the TV-show gets the girl and they get their happily ever after.

For him it's definitely too late.

Happily ever after.

He loves to picture her happily ever after. In Norway,with the him who used to wear Converse and pinstriped suits and brainy specs, not because he needed them, but because they made him look even more clever. He was very vain in this body: with his beautiful face, the great messy chocolate-brown hair (always artfully tousled) and big, warm eyes of the same colour and a slim but muscular body. Women fell so easily for him at that time and he loved it - all the attention and the compliments. It was nice being seductive and sexy, being able to wrap people around his little finger. She wasn't meant to fall for him.

The girl standing at the entrance and calling for some Professor Smith was meant to have a fantastic life, but instead she fell for a nine-hundred year old alien from a planet that doesn't exist any more. She dedicated her life to him.

He loved to flirt in his previous body. The flirting was not always harmless though. Sometimes humans fell in love with his former self. With his gorgeous face and his gob, his brilliance and rudeness. He's still rude but doesn't look quite as fit any more. Women don't haul themselves like that at him nowadays (or he is better keeping them at distance). Maybe it's not even this body. He is still handsome and still has great hair and nice eyes (green now) and looks even younger, as if he wasn't even thirty. Maybe it's the respectable outfit he goes in now: bow-ties and tweed jackets don't exactly scream "fuck me".

He stops musing and focuses on the music instead. "Hey Ya" is supposed to be cheerful but the cover version sounds so sad. The tunes are tugging at the strings of his hearts and reminding him that nothing is meant to stay or to last.

His life had been too long and the girl that just came through the doors of the pub loved him once sincerely and yet she broke her promise: she didn't stay with him but left.

She tried to come back - he gives her that. She really did everything in her power to come to him but she failed at the end. He can't blame her. He failed himself so often, he lost count.

My baby don't mess around  
Because she loves me so  
And this I know for sure  
Uh, but does she really wanna?  
But can't stand to see me  
Walkin' out the door  
Don't try to fight the feelin'  
Cause the thought alone is killing me right now

But separate's always better when there's feeling involved  
If what they say nothing is forever  
Then what makes,what makes, what makes love the exception?

He stops humming to the song. Love is no exception. Not per se. The love might last forever but love is not enough. It doesn't make sure that the one's who are meant to be together are together — love makes the inevitable farewell only a thousand times worse. He knows that. If he knows nothing at all, he at least knows that loving what is doomed to fade hurts.

"Professor Smith!" the voice calls out again. It belongs to a young blonde woman in her early twenties. She is no natural blonde but he can't picture her any other way than with dyed hair. Her eyes have the colour of chestnut-honey and she has voluptuous pink lips. Very kissable. She isn't skinny but curved in all the perfect places. But she was always perfect to him. Today, she is dressed in tight jeans and a very tight shirt. She's wearing high heels instead of trainers which means she doesn't expect running for her life this night. Little does she know, what monster is sitting here among the humans.

The blonde in question, the one calling for the Professor, has once been his colleague. Sort of. He referred to her as companion, mate or as friend but never as lover. He is a coward and as such, he doesn't speak out loud what he really thinks and feels - that only would make the things he inevitably looses too real.

She is now heading for him. "Professor Smith!" The girl looks directly into his eyes and smiles.

His mouth is agape and he doesn't know how to answer because he has no clue why she recognises this body.

"Rose Tyler." He says her name with so much emotion, she blushes slightly. "Long time no see."

He tries avoiding her eyes but fails and falls into that warm golden light he loves so much, he wants to leave and run into the safety of his TARDIS. Wants to take her hand and take her with him. Reapers and the end of the universe be damned.

"Been busy." She answers with a chuckle and the tip of her tongue is visible. "I'm so happy to see you, Professor. I've finally gotten my A-levels." Now she is beaming proudly and he frowns. He doesn't remember her getting the A-levels.

"That's great," he tells her with a warm smile.

"It is,isn't it? I'm currently travelling with...well...a friend and I attended courses over the internet." She shrugs and makes a dismissive gesture and he knows she thinks attending courses over internet doesn't count in his eyes. A fact he has to rectify.

"I'm very proud of you, Rose Tyler." But for the love of God he has no clue what he has to do with her A-levels.

"Would have never made it, if not for you,Professor. Thank you for helping me with my homework, after I've been dropped out of school," Rose adds and he feels like as if she dropped a bucket of ice-water over his head. He has not been helping her with anything yet. Which means he will at one point go back to her and play tutor. A growl escapes his mouth. Bloody self-fulfilling paradox. He schools his expressions carefully into a mask of indifference.

"So you are travelling?"

"Yes-for a bit more than a year now." So she's with the pinstriped him already. Good to know.

"Seen anything interesting?"

"You have no idea." Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm but there is sadness too. It must have been one of the days when not everybody survived.

"So I take it you'll continue travelling for a while?" At the question her face falls.

"I don't know. Maybe it's time to grow up,yeah? Got my A-levels now I could as well start studying, get a job, support mum..." Her thoughts trail off and she stares at his empty glass.

"Why would anyone give up the opportunity to travel?" He makes sure to ask very carefully. Not to sound alerted or petrified.

She shrugs, takes a sip from her beer and tilts her head."Are we still friends,Professor? I mean...I know you didn't...or couldn't...back then when...you know?" Her face is bright pink now and he has absolutely no idea what she's talking about so he silences her by squeezing her trembling hands.

"I'll always be your friend if you need one." He reassures her quickly and she lets out a sigh.

"The man I travel with...I'm his assistant." Taking another sip from her beer she tries to decide what she wants to tell him and blurts out. "Never have I met such a man before. Someone who makes me feel so important and precious. Every day with him is an adventure and he takes me to places no one here even knows about. Like you know-living in a fairytale or a dream. It's a hell of a roller-coaster and every second is worth more than an entire year of normal life..."

"So, why do you want to stop being this man's assistant?"

She hesitates and he is holding his breath too. If he mucks this up, his entire past might change and she might not return to the TARDIS. "Don't laugh, Professor. This man...I love him and I was so naïve cause he makes everyone feel so special. As if I'd have been the first person to travel with him but I realised I'm really just his assistant but you know...I hoped." She growls. "You must think I'm so stupid."

The Doctor is at loss of words. Rose wanted to leave him? When? Why?

"I'd never think you're stupid." The words are sincere and Rose feels that too. "Look at you! You're brilliant. This man would be a fool if he wouldn't love you in return!"

"Professor, I'm a chav. This man is a genius, highly educated, brilliant in every way and I have really no idea why he took me for the ride but I know I'm not his cup of tea. We travelled together for a year now and me and him...we have always been flirting a bit. Nothing more and I thought...well I thought he just likes to take his time. That he wants to be sure."

"So what made you change your mind?"

"I saw him falling in love in the time of five hours," Rose replies flatly and he quirks an eyebrow. "We went to France and he met a woman. Reinette. She was beautiful, educated, sexy, had an incredible sense of style and could read his thoughts...you know what I mean? She was everything I was not and he wanted to bring her along, take her with us travelling but it ended so badly and he was so heart-broken."

"Nobody can fall in love in the time of five hours. You might call something like that a little fascination." He feels uneasy,unsure what to say and how to mend the situation. His past could very well change if he says the wrong thing.

"He forgot me while he was with her and left me waiting at a foreign place. Things got really uncomfortable but still he left me just there,Professor. I thought this man was at least my friend but...this woman was intoxicating. I could see that myself but he just left me and my friend waiting for hours. I don't mean anything to that man." Rose finishes and her eyes look watery.

The Doctor flinches inwardly. Reinette had not exactly been his finest moment in history and he honestly has no better excuses for the French courtesan than any ordinary human man.

Back then, he had already been in love with his human girl and that thought had been truly frightening. She was human and therefore bound to age, to fade within only a couple of years.

Humans are brittle little creatures. Their life-expectancy is short compared to a Time Lord and travelling with him is dangerous. The promise he had given Jackie to keep Rose safe, had not exactly been a lie but certainly not the truth either. The moment she had set her feet aboard the TARDIS her life had been in danger.

He knew his time with her would be too short and when he began feeling more than simple friendship towards her, he had begun pushing her away. Hoping she would stop feeling attracted to him, he had taken Mickey for the ride.

And then came Reinette. Beautiful, sexy and slightly telepathic. She had shortly filled the silence in his head and offered to give him what he wanted and craved: a relationship without promises and commitment. She had put him on a pedestal and called him the lonely God. He had been fluttered. The girl who had been trained to please men had caressed his ego and ignored his flaws.

She had not been the woman he needed, but she had been able to fulfil his needs. Reinette had been a rush of decadence, want and desire. Countless Banana Daiquiris later she had pushed him into her bedroom and he had given in and taken what she had offered him so willingly. He felt like being a rock-star and Reinette had been his willing groupie.

His mind had sobered immediately when he had returned to the space-ship, finding Rose and Mickey strapped down to examination tables about to be sliced into pieces.

And he? He had been dancing and shagging in the meantime and returned with his tie around his head, his clothing rumpled and smelling of another woman.

No, he had never deserved Rose. Maybe he should let her leave him? Change his time line and her faith?

He can't do it. He needs her. Wants her. She is his and she has proved being his countless times.

He reaches over the table and pulls her into his lap. Rose is surprised and gasps, not having expected the manoeuvre.

"I bet you could save the universe," he tells her and shoves his tongue into her mouth. His kiss is wanting and possessive. It's need and loneliness and the desire for the woman he has to have in his life to keep him grounded. He needs her back and if he can only have this one night, he will take it.


	2. if you want?

**For my wonderful Beta RT.**

**Please leave a review and thank you for reading!**

Rose responds immediately to his kiss. Whether it's instinct, or a reflex, or a crush on the soon-to-be-created Professor Smith he doesn't know - doesn't care.

He's finally kissing Rose Tyler. Not Cassandra, not the Bad Wolf, but the human woman who became so precious to him. It feels so right...and oh, so wrong. But Rose Tyler is kissing Professor Smith and again nothing is as it should be.

He wants to slow down time, wants this night last forever and a millennia of self-restraint starts cracking by the intensity of _her _kiss. All he can think about it shoving the glasses and bottles from the table and taking her right there because this might be the last chance to give in. He never told her how he feels and the chance to say it out loud is gone and what remains is regret.

Amy and Rory are his current travelling companions and after having encountered the Dream Lord, both needed a rest. It humours him how sanctimoniously he was when he told Amy to admit her feelings to Rory. How he insisted on the importance of confessing her love when he has never been able to say it out loud. "_Quite right, too" _and_ "Does it need saying?" _have been the only two sentences ever to leave his lips. It needed saying; he knows that now and it's too late. As always.

She breaks away in need for air. Her eyes are hooded, filled with desire and he can almost smell her arousal. "We should move this to a more private location," Rose suggests and he couldn't approve more.

They leave the place inseparably entangled, touching, kissing, grabbing for every inch of skin their hands can reach. He pulls her along to a cheap hotel he spotted on his way to the little pub. The man at the desk immediately knows what they are here for and hands him a key without asking unnecessary questions, it isn't his job to judge his clients.

Neither of them speaks for the next hour and he is grateful for it. Usually, his gob is running at reckless speed but this night is better enjoyed in silence. Later, she lies on his bare chest and nuzzles his neck and he thinks she might fall asleep. "Doctor," she breathes into his ear and it's spoken so softly, he knows she is giving him the opportunity to pretend he didn't hear it.

The Time Lord's body stiffens and his grip around her hip tightens. "How did you know?" he asks eventually.

"Double pulse," Rose replies and kisses his throat.

"Ah." They are silent again and his grip loosens. She walks into the en-suite to take a shower and he wonders, if she expects him to leave in the meantime.

The tension in the dark room when she returns almost hurts physically. One of them has to say something, anything or they might start yelling to break this uncomfortable spell. It's Rose who speaks first and she finds the right words, as always.

"You didn't just break your neck under the console and decided to surprise me, did you?"

The Doctor laughs out loud, "No-nothing such undignified."

"Good. I just got used to your new face."

"Regeneration usually sends my companions running. You're dealing amazingly well with it."

"Yeah? Well, this night makes me wonder if I'm a usual companion." Rose gives him her patent smile, tongue caught between her teeth, and sits down on the bed.

"Nothing about you is usual," he tells her and strokes her face. "I missed you."

Clearing her throat she shots him a scrutinizing look and he feels as if he has never before been assessed like this. "I have to go home," she tells him, "to the TARDIS," she clarifies when she sees his alarmed expression.

"We have all night...if you want."

"You know I want you."

"My younger self is currently busy bothering the TARDIS with unnecessary repair-work and brooding, hidden under the console. I'll be worried for you, if you don't return early."

Her face darkens in anger. "You are the height of narcissism. Are you honestly suggesting to make your younger self jealous with yourself?" Rose snorts disbelievingly. "You fell pretty hard for Reinette, didn't you?"

"Reinette?" he asks, obviously caught off guard. He hasn't been thinking about her since they left the pub.

"Pretty convenient." Her voice is flat, cold-totally un-Rose like.

"What?" He has a hard time following Rose's train of thought.

"Time travel," she clarifies. "It's convenient. You fancy a girl and jump back and forth in time as it pleases you. Why are you here, Doctor? To hinder me nagging younger you, who is currently acting like a prat? Or because you knew I'd never deny you anything? Does it humour you how much I feel for you?" Her expression is unreadable but her voice nearly cracks.

"H-h-how can you honestly think of me like that?" he stutters out, now completely appalled.

"Tell me. First, Sarah Jane: you just dropped her off, never to return again. Is this my future? Ending up as an embittered alien-hunter, longing for a blue-box and a time-travelling alien? You made her promises you couldn't keep and she believed you. I believe you too...always will, even when I know you're obviously lying."

"Quite right, too," he smirks but stops smiling when he realises she can't know yet what he really wants to say. The thing is, he believes her too. Believes her every time she promises to stay with him forever, even when he knows she can't keep her promise, no matter how much she wants to.

"Why? Why did you spend the night with me? What am I to you?" Her tone is accusing and he can't blame her. She feels used, betrayed and hurt. The Doctor's anger flares as his mood shifts. He didn't forced her to come along with him, seducing her took him only seconds. She didn't even knew who he was and yet, she was willing to jump into bed with him.

"It wasn't hard to convince you coming along. What am I to you? Another pretty boy?" The moment he has spoken the words out loud, he regrets them. Her mouth snaps shut and reaching out to grab her bag she turns to leave.

"No!" He blocks the door with his body, still naked, he feels exceptionally vulnerable. He wanted to make this right but manages to mess up again. Scooting his hand through his hair he groans in frustration. "Don't leave. Don't _ever _leave me." The word "ever" is drawn out, punctuated and his eyes beg for understanding.

"Why? What do you need me for?" The bag is still in her hands but her body isn't turned towards the door any more.

Biting his lips he considers the question. There are too many answers and none of them would make her understand how desperately he wants her in his life, misses her and how it pains him that he has given her up. When she called him the height of narcissism, she couldn't have been more right. He is the only man he wants her to be with and he envies his human-self every day. How ridiculous come to think of it: his woman cheats on him and it is always with himself.

"I just need you," he tells her brokenly and moves towards the chair to grab his pants in a futile attempt to regain some dignity.

Rose sits down on the chair next to the window and watches him wearily as she speaks, "I wasn't serious when I told you I considered leaving earlier. I would never leave you willingly."

"I know," he whispers.

"So...this night? Did I die?" she asks curiously.

"No," the Doctor answers without hesitation.

"Did you leave me behind?"

"No," and after a moment he adds, "Not really."

"So I left you?" Her voice is incredulous.

"No," and again he adds, "Not really."

Rose huffs in frustration. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough. You know I can't tell you."

"And what now?"

"I suppose...you go back to me. To my younger self and keep travelling."

"Until it all ends, yeah?"

"Rose, everything ends."

"But I promised you forever. Why will I have to break my promise?" Her eyes are filled with tears and he can't stand to see her like this and does what he always does when he runs out of answers - he gives her a tight hug. "You came back for me. You really came back for me."

"Always. I'll always come back for you. Don't ever doubt that."

Sobering up she looks into his eyes and can't help asking, "Would you tell me though what happened between you and Reinette? We were so close before you met Sarah Jane and I don't understand why you are acting so weird lately."

The question makes him angry. There is so little time left and she really wants to have a domestic? Self-righteous anger and rage bubble up in his stomach: rage, because the universe yanks away from him everyone who ever mattered, because there are too many farewells, because he will eventually be dragged toward a woman he hardly knows and doesn't trust. Anger, because Rose is in his arms and locked away in a parallel universe at the same time and he can never have what he wants. The urge to push her away, like he always does when she comes too close, surfaces again and he wants to hurt her. Wants to punish her for being mortal and human and leaving him for himself in the future.

"I fucked her," he answers monotonously. "That's what happened between me and Reinette."

"Why?" Rose's voice is surprisingly steady, without any hidden judgement.

"Because I could do it without any consequences for me, at least that's what I thought. But I went back to fulfil my promise, to give her a trip in the TARDIS to find out she has died. Just like you humans do." He speaks the word "humans" with unusual despise.

"You really hate us stupid apes for living such short lives, don't you?" Rose grins teasingly and the solemn mood shifts. Her understanding, trust and compassion for him will never stop to amaze him.

"You have no idea."

"Doctor, don't travel alone. Is there someone at your side right now?" He just hurt her twice: by cheating on her with Reinette and by coming back wearing another new face and searching consolidation in her warm embrace. Instead of pushing him out of her life, she is worried for him and he thinks he really doesn't deserve her.

"I'm not alone. Amy and Rory, a lovely couple, are with me."

"A couple? How domestic," Rose teases him.

"Oh, Rose Tyler - you make me domestic. Watch it, you might even turn me into a human one day!"

Bursting into a fit of giggles she agrees with him, "For someone who's constantly pointing out how alien he is, you really can act like a common bloke."

The Doctor spends the rest of the night showing her how human he indeed can be. They watch an old film, order pizza and chips and make love. He wonders if his human-self just does the same in another universe. He hopes so, because for once he doesn't feel like running, neither from something or toward something, right now, he is at home.

The night doesn't last forever and they part in the morning. Both head back to a TARDIS and kissing her, he decides that this night won't be the last opportunity to spend time with Rose Tyler. He'll come back as often as the universe will let him, he'll bid farewell to her again and again until he can't take it anymore or the pain finally subsides.


	3. Keeping you at bay

**Happy Easter my lovely readers!**

**Please, leave a comment after reading (they make my day).**

**A big hug for the amazing RT.**

"Hello, Boss," Mickey the idiot mumbles with a yawn and strolls casually through the TARDIS' doors. He's a bit late but the Doctor is quite frankly amazed he made it back to the time-ship at all. The young mechanic suffers, judged by the red-rimmed eyes and odours he's emanating, from a massive hang-over.

Why again, has he allowed Mickey to travel with him and Rose? Right. Keeping distance. It's not as if he needs the tin-dog to keep Rose at bay. He's doing a fantastic job at that himself, thank you very much. To be honest, he wonders if he has finally managed to overdraw the bow.

After having spent the entire night hidden under the console, busy with nothing in case Rose comes back and has a go at him, he feels brawlsome and filthy. His beloved suit is crinkled and oil-stained. Well, it's not really oil but a chemical connection of liquid minerals from Naboo, which cannot be mixed with water and are therefore in their characteristics similar enough to common oil...Oh – he's trailing off.

Now, where was he? Right. Rickey is late and he feels pent-up, overtired and wants to move, leave, _run away_. Running is good, running keeps sane, keeps him from thinking about feeling filthy and French courtesans and feeling filthy because of dead French courtesans to whom he couldn't keep promises.

His stomach twists in guilt. Poor naïve Reinette fell for him head over heels. She was so hopeful when he promised her a trip to see the stars but the Time Lord had run out of time again and Reinette died. Bad luck. The universe's sick sense of humour. Another casualty. Okay, not a casualty but... "I am rambling in my own head," he chides himself eventually.

Reneitte, the reminder. He grins at the thought. She had known him for almost her entire life, he had known her for a couple of hours. It's an analogy: only one day for you, an entire life for me. Not a fair deal, right? Reinette was totally bewitched, elf-lock-stricken, enthralled with him. _"My lonely angel,"_ she called him but he is far from being an angel. He's not even a fallen angel but a doctor. _The _Doctor. He wants to make it right, wants to mend this screwed-up universe and makes it only worse sometimes – just like a proper doctor. "Surgery was a success, the patient has deceased," they say.

He could have snorted at the thought of being an angel. Him, who sent Gallifrey, the Time Lords and the Daleks to hell in the blink of an eye. The idea of being regarded as such an innocent god-like being had been appealing nevertheless and a whole lot of drinks later, with his pants pushed down and a blonde on top of him (not _the _blonde), fantasizing had become easy. Until reality came crushing down: she withered and died within a day. The story of humans. Imagine that happen to somebody you ... Yeah, that will be _worse_.

He wonders if he has succeeded at last. Maybe, he has finally scared her away.

They watched her planet burn - she refers to it as a date and likes to remember the chips instead. They met her deceased father (of all the days he could have chosen, he picks the one her father gets hit by a car and makes her watch him die twice and has a go at her for pushing him aside) – she blames herself for the reapers later. He sent her away - she swallowed time and saved him. They met Sarah Jane; he managed to make her feel insignificant.

He shagged a French courtesan (Oh, that might be it! 21st century women and their concept of romance.).

Some part in him tells him to be grateful and to stop acting like a prat. It's not an everyday occurrence to be loved by someone so deeply, entirely. By someone, who generously decides not to ignore, but to accept the flaws. It's really, really a shame she's somewhat like a mayfly. If he gives in, if he follows through and stops hurting her deliberately, he won't be able to run anymore. That's the one adventure he can't have; can't allow himself to have – the standstill. How is he supposed to stand still anyways? With all this blood on his hands? How is he supposed to accept so much love only to lose it later? If she leaves him, he could blame her and get over it. At least that's what he wants to believe.

"Where's Rose?" he asks Mickey. The young man is still standing in the console-room, watching the Time Lord awkwardly during his internal monologue.

"She ain't back? I'm gonna get some sleep then. Been a hell of a night, boss."

The Doctor rolls his eyes in annoyance. "She was with you."

"Yeah, met her old tutor and left. Professor Smith. That guy was weird. Not even thirty but always dressed like fresh from the 1950s. Used to look at Rose as if she was the holy grail. Used to _leer _at her. Gratefully, he disappeared around the same time as Jimmy did."

"And if he was that weird, you just left her with him?" The Doctor asks accusingly.

"She can handle them Synthax-things, she can handle a bloke." Mickey shrugs. "Besides – he's just such a matchstick as you."

"Oi! I'm not a matchstick. And it's Sycorax, Mickey. They're called Sycorax."

"Whatever." With that said, he leaves the room for some extra sleep and the Doctor dives back under the console.

It's not as if he cares about Rose spending the night out. She's free to do whatever she wants – like hanging out with her _tutor_.

That's what he wants, isn't it? Rose going out, meeting someone, turning away from him, giving up on her childish amorousness with him. Suddenly, it hits him hard - she's only twenty. A proper child, oblivious to the dangers he puts her through and her feelings for him are hardly more than a little crush, some fascination – nothing to be taken serious; and if she has really just spent the night with some professor it means she doesn't love him. He got it all wrong and everything's fine and one day she'll leave and he can move on like he always does.

So, why is he bothered? A little voice in his mind tells him to track down Professor Smith to show him a black hole from the inside. _Professor Smith –_ how ridiculous. He's the _Doctor. _A brilliant genius, the destroyer of worlds, the oncoming storm and she goes out and let's herself get seduced by some mediocre professor? When she could have been aboard the TARDIS? A ship capable of travelling through space and time?

But she does love her pretty boys and admitted her flirting saved his life once or twice. Her super-nova smile could melt the grimmest aliens. It melted him and he wants that smile directed at him, only him; not at all these Jacks, Adams and Mickeys but at him. Rose, the flirt of all of time and space, was his and only his.

He grits his teeth when she finally enters the TARDIS and his hope that she didn't do anything inappropriate last night shatters.

Rose is thoroughly rumpled: she's wearing the same clothes as yesterday, her hair is a mess, she smells like cheap soap, there's no make-up on her face and he is pretty sure that the piece of lace sticking out of her bag belongs to her bra.

"Enjoyed your night out?" he asks with a fake smile and watches her face intently. She's staring at him as if she'd just discovered the Amber Room. Her grin is totally self-pleased and therefore unnerving. It doesn't last long though – a second later it shifts from giddy and smug to horrified, as if some terrible realisation settles in.

She swallows. "It was...it was an interesting night."

"Bet it was," he snaps back.

"Problem?" She arches an eyebrow in challenge.

"No problem, not at all." He gestures towards the lace poking out of her bag. "I'd just prefer you not to spread diseases throughout time and space."

"Diseases?" She has to close her mouth with her thumb and he beams at her with his widest smile, showing an awful lot of teeth.

"Yes, diseases Rose Tyler. Nasty thing that is, a disease. You stupid little apes have all kind of diseases in your system and there are so many, admitted, pleasurable ways, of spreading them. Might mutate though, the disease and spread on another planet. Could eradicate an entire civilization."

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose Tyler?"

"Would you stop saying disease?"

"I could use the term infection instead, if you like." The smile feels by now cemented onto his face.

"You could use the term Syphilis, Doctor. As an example." She's able to play that game as well. "That's one of many diseases. Think it was a big deal in the 18th century."

"It still is," he assures her.

"I hope you don't have that then," she mumbles in irritation.

"Why would I?" he asks, faking innocence.

"Doctor, you're wasting our time."

"Quite right. We could already be on our way, if some human hadn't decided to come back late." He turns towards the console, hand already on a lever.

"You should always wait five and a half hours," Rose replies easily and steps next to him, deep into his personal space. "But that's not what I mean. I mean, You. Are. Wasting. O_ur. _Time."

He inhales deeply, braces himself to smell the other man on her skin, in her hair, on the offending garment poking out of her bag. Instead, he smells himself under the terrible soap and the sweaty dampness of her worn clothing.

His mouth opens and closes several times, realisation slowly sinks in. "But-but-but...that's not possible," he whispers to himself.

It's a rule he strictly follows - don't cross your own time line. There's another rule - don't look back. A future version of himself must have broken both of them...which means...no...yes...no...he's about to lose her. Looking at her, he tries to figure out what to do with the information. What might happen to him when she's gone? When will she be gone? How much time might they have left? It's a glimpse from the future he should have better not gotten because it makes him want to change his fate. The question isn't if he's going to try, but rather if he'll be able to succeed.


	4. Crushing my Resolve

**The story continues after leaving Mickey in Pete's world.**

**A big hug for my amazing Beta RT!**

The TARDIS has one passenger less. How come? Because he did what he does best; he dropped the topic and went for another adventure.

It went pear-shaped – and that's an understatement. They landed in a parallel world and Rose, highly frustrated by his current behaviour, wandered off – right into the arms of her not-deceased father.

The parallel world being a gingerbread house couldn't be more true than in Rose's case: her father lives, is a billionaire, head of a secret organisation and resides in an estate that truly deserves the name. Only her mother being deceased, recently cyberized, adds some flaws to the picture.

Mickey decided to stay in that wonderland of myriad options to look after his grandmother and build a better life. A life without time-travelling aliens and unfaithful blonde ex-girlfriends in it. Well, not that Rose is exactly an unfaithful girlfriend but definitely an ex-girlfriend. She definitely _was _faithful and loyal towards Mickey; just not in love with him.

That became quite clear when he invited him to come along and Rose lacked her usual enthusiasm entirely.

It's hard to admit but Mickey was only been invited as a buffer. Now, that he's gone and after everything that happened, he doesn't know what to say to his crestfallen companion.

They are on their way back to the prime universe, to Jackie, Rose's mother. She has to see her, convince herself her mother is still alive and safe from aliens, living a perfectly ordinary life.

None of that must have happened. Not Mickey joining them on the ride because of his selfish reasons or being lost to another dimension. Not Rose watching her parallel mother die. Not extending his world-saviour graciousness to another universe. He might be the last of the Time Lords but these duties don't extend to every single, god-damn universe in existence.

If his two companions just had stayed in the TARDIS, waiting for her to power back up, there would still three people be aboard. They would not have noticed Vitex-founder Pete Tyler or an army of Cybermen.

But stubborn Rose just had to go outside and look at all these bloody pictures of Pete Tyler. He should have known. The girl who grew up without a father just _must _be obsessed with the idea of meeting him – and there she ran. Straight into trouble. And with trouble he means the possible end of parallel planet Earth.

Something about this other dimension terrifies him more than he is willing to admit. For once, he was truly afraid to lose her. All these options and temptations on this other planet, which is somehow the same Earth she comes from, but entirely different, holds the dormant promise to be better. Even if it's not true, there is the possibility that it could be. Mickey proved it and took the bait.

She came with him, though. Rose is still following _him_ and he wonders why. He doesn't want her to leave, not at all, but he wonders what he'll become once she's gone.

It's terrifying to know not even a future regeneration will be able to stay away from the one woman who made him love travelling again after the horrors of the Time-War.

Is there no hope at all? Why, oh why, does he have to be so attached to her? Why can't she just be another mate? One, he'll one day drop off and never look back to. What is it with the girl sitting on his jump-seat in her tight, revealing excuse of a waitress-uniform?

He's mesmerized by her body in that uniform. She's sitting there, hugging her legs and sucking her thumb like a lost little girl. She wants to see her mother and she wants her best friend not to be gone where she can never visit him again. She wants to get to know her dad. To summon it up: she wants something stable to hold on to and she wants it right now.

He wants her – so much it hurts.

He can offer none of the things she needs at the moment. The TARDIS is too weak to go anywhere soon and until she powers up again, they'll be floating in the Vortex.

It's awkward being only with Rose on the ship again after travelling with Mickey for so long. Somehow, he's forgotten how to talk to her without the gentle boy being around. He missed it – having her all to himself and she was right; the clock is ticking and he doesn't know how much time he has left with her.

As if it matters how much time it is. It's _not _enough.

One last try. He'll try one last time to push her away, to make her walk out of the insanity he calls his life. It would be _so _much easier if she'd just decide to leave him behind.

They kissed once, in ancient Rome and he sculpted a statue of her from his memory. It was the time when he noticed that he lo...feels very much for her.

Afterwards, they met Sarah and Reinette and he tried to make her leave. Because he, the coward, can't leave her. He needs her and therefore it's up to her to be strong – even if he's a millennia old and she only twenty.

One more time he'll show her the beast he is inside, hidden in a handsome human-looking body. Underneath the surface he is a self-righteous, self-loathing, embittered mass murderer. Yes, he had his reasons for every single being he condemned to his death but after a millennia the lines between right and wrong, black and white, good and evil all turn to grey.

He's the Doctor, keeper of time and guardian of the universe. He keeps the party running but at a high price. _Fucking _duties of the last Time Lord. Today, he should and could have walked away. The parallel universes are _not_ his business.

This is the last time he'll test her. The very last time he'll lash out on her and if she doesn't run? It's time to give in then.

"So." His voice is chipper. "Wandering off again, were we?"

"Excuse me?" Rose is startled from her own thoughts.

"Don't wander off." He's talking provokingly slowly, making her feel dumb on purpose again. "It's the rule you constantly keep breaking – never fails to drag us into trouble."

She shifts uncomfortably on the jump seat and her short little skirt rides up, revealing her bare thighs and soft skin. "Are you having a go at me again? If so, I'll go to sleep."

"No." His voice is cold, mandatory. "We are having this conversation now."

"I am not your little servant," Rose shots back annoyed.

"But you look lovely as a servant," the Doctor answers gleefully. Though, there is a predatory quality in his voice and eyes when his gaze examines her body.

She stares wide-eyed at him. "Is that the reason you're putting me into waitress- and dinner-lady outfits?"

"No. It's because that is what you were if not for me," he spats back and is himself surprised at the cruelty spilling from his mouth.

"If you really think that's true then why don't you drop me off?!" she shouts out. "Hell, if you just want to get rid of me, do it! Just stop treating me like _this_!

"I could ask you the same question, Rose Tyler! Why are you keeping up with _me_? Is it for my time-ship? Does the little girl so desperately want her daddy back?" he yells back, gripping the console so hard his knuckles turn white. He's shivering, but it's not rage. It's fear.

"I was curious. I never wanted to stay or intrude _anything_. I wanted to look at my father without watching him getting hit by a bloody car!" Rose retorts, infuriated.

"Your curiosity almost got us killed! Mickey actually stayed behind."

"Oh no, mister! You're not blaming this one on me. We did what we _always _do. We saved the day," Rose answers haughtily. Her cheeks are flushed crimson from anger, two buttons of the cheap waitress-uniform have popped open and her eyes are blazing. She has never looked more beautiful.

"One day, we won't save the day. We'll fail. And this parallel universe was not our responsibility. For once, if I say don't wander off, just stay put!"

"But that's what we do! We run through space and time and make it better, fix it."

"How often do I have to tell you? Time can't be rewritten!"

"But we do it all the time! To you everything is past and future at the same time. Only when you show up, things start to happen. As long as you've not been there, it's all future," Rose argues and his eyes go wide in astonishment. She has a point but he shrugs it off the next moment.

The Doctor walks over to her and leans down. He's face to face with her, one hand on the backrest, the other next to her waist. "We. Can't. Save. All. People have died, Rose. Don't you see, that _you _could be next?" Pulling away from her he tugs his hair in frustration.

"So that's what this is all about? You're acting like a git so I leave cause I might get killed one day?" Her voice is soft, soothing. Once again, she's giving him the understanding he doesn't deserve.

The Doctor leans against one of the coral-struts. Rose gets up, follows him and squeezes his hand. "Doctor.." she starts and her voice cracks. She looks up at him and he can see the tears glistening in her eyes. When she speaks again it's merely a whisper. "Do you really believe it's easier if I just go and leave you alone?"

The voice he makes in response is a growl. He spins her around so it's now her back against the strut. He's pinning her there with his lean body. Resting his forehead against hers he asks, "Aren't you scared?"

"Not as much as you."

"That's not what I've been expecting to hear." He smirks.

"Then go back to France," she snaps back, trying to push him away. He's faster though and catches her arms mid-movement. Yanking them upward, pinning them above her head. She's trapped now, completely at his mercy.

"I think," he says thoughtfully, "you're crushing my resolve." The Doctor's breath is hot upon her face, his lips only inches away from hers, his hips pressed flush. "Tell me to stop, please." He's offering his hearts, his dignity and his sanity. Not, that she not already owned them – his plea is simply for protocol.

"No. No more stopping, no more French mistresses, no more Mickeys and Adams. Just you and me," Rose answers to his utter disapproval and delight.

"Together," he agrees before he plunders her mouth and yanks the waitress-uniform off her body.

There is no going back now, not anymore. Still, it's wrong, so very wrong but the universe offers him so little and takes so much. He wants that, wants her and he's tired. Very tired and very weak and very old.

She kisses back with equal vigour, squirms against his grip; she is seeking for friction as desperately as he is. Rational thought leaves his mind entirely when he finally releases her hands and Rose attacks his pants.

Their first real time together is not tender; it's a heated, angry shag against a coral-strut but nonetheless expression of their deep love for one another. They both know their time is limited and neither of them has any idea how to change fate; but at least they are done with denying their relationship.

Later, they make it to his bedroom and when she dozes off into sleep, he starts pondering, musing over time, future, past and fate. Now, time is still in flux and his future isn't set yet. Professor Smith's future is not yet his own – but it might be, one day. He just has to gain enough information of events to come without knowing as much of his fate that the time-lines become fixed.

The task is a tricky one and so far, he has not been very good at escaping his own fate. Staring at the numerous books in his bedroom an idea forms in his head – he'll start keeping a diary to help him remember the original time-line when past or future change.

Reading ahead isn't an option – that only cements events but if he could only get a glimpse? Like an index of contents maybe?

Disentangling himself from Rose, he scoots out of the bed and heads into the depths of the TARDIS. Hidden at the bottom of the ship lies something he vowed never to use again. Staring at the object, a wooden box decorated with delicate clockwork, he considers breaking that promise.


	5. Ghosts

It's inevitable after having met Kazran Sardick. It doesn't even surprise him that he has to see her now.

Abigail, the love of Sardick's life, just reminded him too much of Rose. It was a shock seeing the young girl with her blonde hair and heart-shaped face locked into a cryogenic chamber. She had one day left to live and Sardick had not been able to decide which one it should be.

He wouldn't be able to chose either.

Always the hypocrite, he forced Sardick to spend his Christmases with him and Abigail until only said last day was left. Of course, a poor consolation was given to the man when he told him that a broken heart was better than no heart at all.

Later, alone in his room on the TARDIS, he snorts at the corny line.

Another Christmas. Another Christmas without _her _and it really wouldn't be that bad if not for Abigail and all her parallels to Rose, including the tragic ending.

Speaking of tragic endings: he just found a TARDIS-blue envelope, labelled in his own handwriting, ordering him to come to two places.

The first is the very same pub he met Rose just a few months earlier, the second place is Lake Silencio in Utah. He sighs. Another self ordering him about, causing a circular paradox on the way, is usually bad news. And if he says bad he means worse than the everyday, usual, possible-destruction-of-a-very-beloved planet trouble.

It strikes him that he might really die this time around – no more spare regenerations left; his current face will be the last one. A good face – he'll be a handsome corpse, thank you very much. Well, not that he'll be able to care at this point, but the point still stands and...

Right. Back to meeting Rose. He rips himself out of his solemn thoughts and focuses on the pleasurable part of the day. Adjusting his hair he picks out a bow-tie and wonders if Rose prefers green with black dots or burgundy with white swirls. To be honest, he hopes the bow-tie won't stay in place for too long.

Leaving his sleeping companions in the safety of the TARDIS, he heads for the pub.

It's a Tuesday and the place is almost empty except for some students who don't intend on finishing university soon. Rose and Shareen are sitting in a corner, chatting over some pink cocktails, oblivious to their surroundings. He smiles happily at her sight.

There is also a skinny, ginger-haired man in his early thirties sitting at the bar and observing the two girls. He's wearing nothing outstanding – jeans, button-down shirt, vest and a black leather jacket. None of the other guests is paying any particular attention to him and the Doctor wouldn't do so either if the fancy bracelet on the man's arm wouldn't be a vortex-manipulator.

The Doctor strolls casually up to him, raising his arm towards the bartender he orders a cuppa and sits down next to him.

"Hello, I'm John Smith," he greets the man with false joviality.

Tearing his gaze away from Rose and Shareen, the man turns towards the Doctor and shoots him a scrutinizing look. "You're the Doctor," he states, taking a bite from his chips.

The Doctor rubs his hands in anticipation and grins. "Straight to the point, I like that."

The man shrugs and the Time Lord takes the potential threat in - piercing blue eyes, a prominent nose and slender lips; his physique is lean but muscular and the Doctor assumes military training due to his stiff posture.

"I'm afraid I can't stay too long, Doctor. We should part soon," he tells him with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, don't rush. You seem to be enjoying the view," the Doctor retorts, indicating Rose and Shareen.

"She is beautiful," the man admits, looking at Rose with an unreadable expression.

"Is that so?" the Doctor asks curiously.

"Yep," he says, popping his "p". "She's definitely taken, doesn't even bother to look at any man." He seems to be the observant type

"Still, you keep staring," the Time Lord points out sceptically and a shadow crosses the other man's face. The Doctor thinks he looks sad, almost desperate, but the expression doesn't last long enough to be sure.

"I'm watching a ghost," he tells him thoughtfully. "Everything happening here is past, gone and never to return again. How do you take it, Time Lord?"

"Who are you?" the Doctor asks eventually and the man grins smugly.

"I'm John Smith."

"That's not funny. In fact, it's three bus-rides and a cab-drive from funny," the Doctor chides.

"You're one to talk." John grins. "Doctor Who?"

"So – ginger? Doesn't suit you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"No. And stop staring. It's getting embarrassing. What are you here for?" he huffs in irritation.

John reaches for his pocket and fishes out a little key on a golden chain. Handing it over, he's getting ready to leave.

"What is this?"

"A key," he replies wisely.

"It's not just any key," he exclaims. "Where did you get this from?"

"From you_,_" John replies calmly. "It's a TARDIS key," he adds as an afterthought.

"No it isn't," the Doctor huffs. "What does this thing unlock?!" He is starting to get impatient.

"Something I selfishly hope you'll never open. But I already know you will," John answers and the Doctor is almost sure he sees unshed tears.

The Doctor rolls his eyes in annoyance and the man elaborates, "Doctor, I'm giving you this key so you can give it one day to me. You'll know the right time." He leaves before the Doctor is able to ask another question. Disappearing in a flash of light, the Doctor is left behind tasting Huon particles in the air.

"Doctor!" He whirls around to find Rose standing behind him, looking puzzled. "I thought I have seen you at the pub."

Giving her a bright smile he answers, "A precise observation, Rose Tyler! So what have you and me recently been up to?"

"Oh – the usual. We wanted to see Elvis and I lost my face. At least no Werewolves this time around." She gives him her patent grin. "Does your driving ever improve?"

"Oh, that one gave me nightmares! Wanted to make up for France and got you stuck in the wire. And I let you know that my driving is impeccable!"

He's flipping his hands about. The nervous gesture is a new quirk of this fresh body – he used to shove them into his pockets in the former one. However, he's still pacing. "What are you up for? We could make a quick trip with the TARDIS. Do you remember the ice-cream on Panatolaw IV? Or horse-riding on Equistaria? Well, not that they are horses, far more developed, more sentient. Still, remotely relative, however their muscles..."

"Doctor!" Rose interrupts him harshly. "You are rambling." Her sweet smile shuts him off effectively and he leans down for a tender kiss. Cupping her cheek he whispers, "I've missed you. Had to see you."

Grabbing his other hand, the one that is still drawing air-circles, Rose drags him to a halt. "What happened? You're upset."

"How do you know? You don't know this body yet well." His eyebrows waggle suggestively. "For all you know I could only be excited, happy, eager, _horny_." The last word is supposed to send shivers down her spine but only amuses her.

Grinning, she's poking his ribs, "I think I'm thoroughly acquainted with that body. Doctor, you're not doing at good job at fooling me. Who was that man? The one you've been talking to?"

"Just an old friend." He makes a dismissive gesture.

"Friend? You usually hug them immediately."

"Just the exceptionally good ones. He was more an acquaintance. A run-in, if you want."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm always alright, Rose. Right as rain. Though, why rain is right is beyond me. Rain is rather wrong, mostly. Messes up your hair and you get all wet and cold. Have I told you how the rain on Haloc almost ruined my coat?"

"Doctor! Please." She's indignant, the pointless rambling starts scaring her and he guiltily pulls himself together. "I'm here to make up for the last time. How about a proper date? Get changed in the TARDIS cause you and I – we'll be dancing. A suite at the Mandarin Oriental is awaiting us later." He grins foolishly and Rose shakes her head, trying to figure out what's wrong.

She should better ask what's right. He knows his younger self knows by now he's visiting her and thinks about ways of changing the future. Amy and Rory are so adorable with each other it gives him a headache at times (and a pang of jealousy he doesn't want to admit) especially when Amy is dropping subtle and not-so subtle hints about getting himself a girlfriend. And what is that constant flirting with River anyways? He's still not sure if he can trust her and doesn't know what she's up to. Besides, he's almost sure he'll have to marry her, entangle both their time-lines inseparably.

He's not ready to do that with another woman than the one standing in front him right now and still, he doesn't tell her.

"Really, I'm fine." Waggling his fingers like so many years ago he pulls Rose along the street towards the TARDIS.

"Won't your companions question who I am?" Rose asks timidly.

"Na – humans, they sleep their lives away."

She changes into a pale pink silk dress decorated with flowers and birds and puts on golden heels – she looks like the princess she is to him and her smile makes him feel centuries younger and properly giddy. He takes her out on a proper date and doesn't do the drunken giraffe when they are finally on the dance floor. Amy would be infuriated if she knew what a good dancer he can be. It's a matter of the _right _motivation.

Rose's concerns about his earlier behaviour are forgotten for a while and he is content. More than content. He's happy.

"Doing domestics with you is not bad," he tells her, whirling her around to Waltz 2 from Shostakovich and it feels like flying.

"As long as we are not having a domestic," she retorts with her trademark grin and his eyes drop to her chest and further to her hips. Back and forth, back and forth they swing – like he does in her timeline, coming to an halt when the song ends.

Rose goes to get herself a glass of Champaign and he does the same. He doesn't drink it though, he just needs something to hold onto.

He tells her about Abigail and hands her a handkerchief when he comes to the part when Kazran asked him which day he'd choose to spend with his beloved.

"You're really keeping your promise, Doctor." Her voice is barely audible from tears

"What do you mean?"

"This. You're telling me good-bye. Over and over again. This is a whole new level of knowing that my journey with you ends."

"You knew that already."

"But it's different."

"I suppose it is." He sighs and wipes his face. When he removes his hand from his face he breaks into a wide grin, full of promises and mischief. "The night has barely started."

"And how many night after this remain for me?" Rose is still anxious.

"It isn't over yet. Not for a while." His eyes are sincere and she fights back the tears. Always so brave, his Rose. Even and especially when he makes it hard on her.

"Yeah, but it will."

"But we are here. Right now."

"Yeah."

"Rose...we don't have to do this. I can leave."

"Don't!"

"It's unfair though. I should go." He doesn't want to but if it's more than she can take he won't torture her again.

"No! Don't ever think I'd send you away."

"Any me?" he can't help asking with a small grin. "Even if my next body would be old and fat? Or had only one heart."

"Daft alien," she huffs. "I l-"

"Don't say it. Not yet. Saying these words feels like farewell. We still have time. Trust me."

"You are doing this for me, aren't you?" she asks suddenly and he's startled. The selfish old Time Lord isn't doing this for anyone else but himself, to hold on just a little bit longer. He deserves this, doesn't he?

"Why?"

"So I know what to do when it ends."

It's a point, he can't deny that but not one that has occurred to him yet but when he thinks about it, it makes sense: it explains her reaction at this godforsaken beach when she kissed his human self with only the slightest hint of hesitation. Is he sealing his own fate by coming back? Would staying away be the key of changing time?


	6. Twisted Fairytale

"It feels a bit like cheating, you know."

"What?" Rose's voice startles him from his musings.

"Well, I've told you I'd spend the night with Shareen and here we are, about to enter the Mandarin Oriental." She glances bashfully through her heavy lashes at the high and mighty Time Lord (the little boy on a date, desperate to be loved).

"Same man, remember?" He shrugs her concerns off and fights back the guilt; Rose would see Shareen never again. The devil himself is waiting for her and a boy named Elton who would end up loving a cobblestone (well, he's bonded to a sentient ship). The Olympics 2012 are about to come and afterwards their ways would part for a long time.

Before their story would finally end. Once and for all.

"This," she clarifies, stepping through the doors of their luxurious, decadent room for the night. His eyes settle on the gigantic canopy bed. The sheets are made of silk and the high mattress holds filthy promises. "How are we gonna pay for it anyways?"

"Psychic paper and my trusty sonic," he replies with a smug grin and she shakes her head.

"Thief," she grins saucily

The Doctor guffaws. "I've saved this planet once or twice and never got paid back, guess I deserve a night with my girl at a posh place." His eyebrows waggle suggestively. "Now, we had dinner and dancing. We had Champagne and here's a fine suite at our disposal. I assume I went through every state of proper human courting – care to test that bed?"

Bursting into a fit of giggles Rose grabs his hand and entwines their fingers – her hand fits still perfectly in his; she's made for him. Back in his last body, he thought it was the other way around but that isn't true. He's always the same man and she's always the same woman; with her he is feeling completion.

"Impatient?" she asks amused.

"I'm aware of every second that ticks away. Always."

"I know," her voice is soft, "that's why you keep running."

"Care to make me wanna stop?" What's wrong with him? He's acting like Jack, a proper Captain Innuendo.

Rolling her eyes and swatting his arm playfully she answers, "I'd never want you to stop running. Would be like trapping an animal." She gives him her patent grin. "I don't wanna stop either."

He leans into her side and she smooths the lapels of his jacket and adjusts his bow-tie. It feels domestic and he remembers a time when he had been spoiled with this particular kind of touch every day– when she was with him. It's those small intimate gestures he misses. The intense feeling of being cared for.

Gone and replaced by stolen moments.

"I like the bow-tie."

"Bow-ties are cool," he agrees happily. His Rose understands.

"You even rock the tweed." She chuckles.

"That's a pity. I hoped you'd want to dispose it." There it's again, the impatience. He just wants to get her stripped, feel her skin and the joy and bliss which follows her each and every touch.

"But keep the bow-tie?" She arches an eyebrow. "Kinky."

"I could be your Chippendale!" he tells her excitedly, noting he refers to himself as "hers".

"Oh my – I have a sense if we'd even try the Slitheen would choose that very moment to invade Earth again." All of a sudden she's serious, "I think you knew I was with well..you. After the last time." A blush creeps up her cheeks.

"Yes, I do. It makes me fight my future harder." He smirks but his face falls just a second later. "It's in vain, though."

She frowns. "Didn't you tell me it's dangerous to know your own future?"

"I don't know my future. I just know I'll come back for you."

"Bit of a hypocrite, aren't you?"

"That I am. And a dedicative liar," he smirks.

"But what if I let something slip? What if I change your life?" Rose is genuinely anxious; not for herself but for him and he _knows _what he demands from her isn't right; there is no justification despite the fact that he _could _have some more time. Just another minute.

That has to be enough to sanctify his actions – once more.

"Well...suppose I'll fade from time and the reapers come to eat up this beautiful universe. Better you don't tell me any details," he jokes and she pales.

"My gawd, I'm having an affair with you." She's laughing hysterically and he can see it's all that keeps her from breaking down.

"Rose, come on. It's alright, I know what I'm doing. Time Lord – me. If I'd really succeed in changing my future, I'd fade out of existence. Those encounters with me would become echoes, dreams. Such things happen – aborted timelines." He shrugs dismissively and tries to distract her with his new sonic. It doesn't work.

"But-"

"Rose, stop it!" Bugger, he didn't mean to yell at her. Frustrating stubborn human. Doesn't she realize how much he needs to be with her? Can't she just let him have this illusion of a relationship, domesticity and love?

"Half of the time you don't know what you're doing! You're making it up while you go along," she exclaims.

"I'll leave," he threatens and she finally bites back. It's shameful; it's him who can't let go of her and she knows but indulges him. That's love: letting the other one off the hook, especially when he doesn't deserve it.

Cupping his face she plants a soft kiss on his lips. "How could I live with myself if anything would happen to you because of me? I want you safe."

He sighs and tries a light, joking tone. "Believe me, I'd be the happiest person if I'd manage changing my life. My presence here though is proof for another failure. What happens to you and me is set. No matter what I try or do...as long as I'm able to see you my past it past."

"Could it change?" she can't help asking.

"If I'm lucky, " he replies.

"But it can't. Because of me...I'm with you. Well, you and you...if you know what I mean." Rose paces up and down, trying to understand and piece together what she learned so far. She's so brilliant, so much more than him.

There's an uncomfortable thought: Rose's timeline is entwined with his own, with his younger self and his presence with her fixes her future as well as his own. His encounters set his past even more but loosen it at the same time. Going back to her truly gives him a head-ache.

"Rose, don't worry. I really know what I'm doing." He winks and she laughs out loud.

"Liar!" She sounds equally amused as accusing.

"Told ya," he grins.

"That's one hell of a twisted fairytale," Rose exclaims and she sounds spent. In response he leans down to kiss her knuckles in an old-fashioned way.

"I wish you'd realise that my TARDIS isn't a castle but Pandora's box." The words are spoken to himself but as close as they are with each other she hears him. There's the guilt again: for all the tears she'll cry over him.

"What! Why did you say that?" There's an anxiety in her voice he can't place. He isn't even sure she knows the myth about the box which contains all of grief and sorrow – she does,obviously. "There's a box in my dreams, Doctor. All that comes out is death and destruction." Her eyes widen in shock.

Death and destruction in a box – that sums him up, doesn't it? Why she knows about the Pandorica however is beyond him.

"Do you really want to know what Pandora's box contains?" he whispers conspiratorially and - oh finally! She shivers and leans into him. He can't help it. He shouldn't tell her about his future – not in such great detail but she's off tonight, fearful, doubtful.

"Inside the box is a beautiful girl. With green eyes and red hair. She's sleeping in her prison, guarded by her lover, a Roman soldier. He'll watch over her for two-thousand years until a certain Time Lord comes along and helps him to wake her from her slumber."

"See – a fairytale. Is it true?" Happy, eager, trustful eyes settle on his face.

"It is," he agrees, "and such a beautiful one. It's true. All of it. Happened to Amy and Rory, my current companions."

"Two-thousand years? How's that possible?"

"I can't tell you," he replies apologetically.

"And the Time Lord? Where's his princess?" A light and teasing tone – just what he wants to hear.

"Right here," he leans down for a kiss; an effective way to silence her. It's like running – a way to evade the questions and the reality. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that Rose could not have referred to the Pandorica. Despite better knowledge he wishes she doesn't dream about the little wooden box he brought from the Time War.

"Is it really possible? Loving someone for two-thousand years? Waiting all this time?" She's staring intently at him, looking for something in his face.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"I'd wander through all of time and space to get to the one I love." There's that tongue-touched, bold grin again.

"You will." His mouth snaps shut, he shouldn't have let that slip.

He thought it would be easy – putting an entire universe between him and her, letting his human self live out what he desired above all. He really, really wanted her to have her happily ever after, so why is he trying now to give her so many hints and traces? It's infuriating how much he wants to tell her everything. He's grateful she finally gives into his desires and no further talking is required that night.


	7. White Walls

She's away with Shareen and all those other friends she soon might never see again. He's thinking about pulling the lever, taking the TARDIS far away and leaving her behind.

She isn't safe with him. Even if he may not be looking for trouble (which he is), it never fails to find him. He regards it as his duty as last of the Time Lord's and the curious know-it-all git he is.

There's no way he can resist poking the universe with a stick or licking it with his tongue whenever he gets the chance.

Some events in history may be fixed, impossible to be rewritten but there's just too much he's free to change, bend to his will.

He'd never admit it out loud but he is the closest thing to a God this universe has to offer. Of course he loves to travel but only travelling would be boring. He just has to interfere, to dash in, to make _it _better – whatever _it _may be.

Sometimes better now means much more pain, loss, grief and destruction later.

_Doctor._

What doctor could let his patient be? It's his nature to intervene, to meddle, to fiddle. Especially when he should, no, must turn his back and let history take it's course.

The possibilities, the changes he can bring never stop to itch. The urge is always there, dragging him forwards, backwards, sideways through the universe and beyond.

His intentions are pure, mostly.

Rose. His Rose makes that urge only stronger. Seeing history, galaxies, stars and planets through her young, innocent eyes gives him an even wider understanding for the options this universe might have.

To make it better.

For her. For mankind. For the Slitheen. For the Carrionites. For whomever or whatever.

It doesn't matter.

_For his own bloody ego. _

His musings stop when he senses a second humming in his head. Another TARDIS is near, an older TARDIS and he knows instantly why it's here. Whom for.

Gritting his teeth and almost snarling like an animal he descends his ship and goes hunting down his older self.

Pure, unfiltered rage races through his veins. Rage at his older self and at Rose, who prefers this new form over his current. Isn't he good enough? Pretty enough? He regenerated with her in his mind and hearts, becoming _her _pretty boy in the process and she goes sneaking off with another model? How dare she?

It doesn't take him long to find an abandoned, pouting Shareen. The girl looks very uncomfortable at his sight and he can't blame her: his expression is thunderous.

"Hello!" he greets her with false joviality, "do you know where Rose is?"

"Uhm – mate," she answers, avoiding his eyes, "I really don't want to be in the middle of your domestics. Rose left."

"I know!" He beams at her, hoping his grin doesn't take up this slightly unnerving, manic touch. "Smith told me he'd pick her up. Just forgot to mention where exactly."

"Why don't you give her a call?" the girl retorts, still unwilling to give her probably unfaithful friend away.

Getting up with a sigh, he exits the pub and instead tries locating Rose's phone. He rejoices inwardly when he finds out that his older self didn't damp the signal and follows it to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

How domestic would his future self become? Taking her not to a new world but on a boring, uninspired Earth-date. What will he do next? Settle down on a planet to live in a proper house with carpets, playing spouse?

Could he do that actually? Settle down for a while? Take the slow path for a couple of decades until she's d...breaks her promise? A strangled laugh escapes his lips, not even in his own head can he finish what's really bothering him.

On the planet Alpahraxys Centurii everyone keeps his feelings closed; expressing your emotions gives others the power to mess with said emotion. It's one of the most wicked weapons in the universe. On the other hand it's the opposite on Botheran where one can inflict his own feelings upon other's by means of...

Right. Back to the main issue: Rose.

It's not like he's never been stranded before and he did fairly well. Of course he did well. He's a Time Lord, he'd be a brilliant human.

Of course that was before the war. Before not only curiosity and good intentions kept him running about. Now, he has to make up for his crimes, has to earn his redemption by saving anyone he can.

There are 2.47 billion lives he has taken, wiped out from existence and time itself.

His human girl finally steps out of the hotel's doors and he sighs in relief. His head is like a gigantic closet, bits and bobs are tossed together, battling for attention but hardly ever see the daylight. It's rubbish being on his own and his older self steals time with _his_... _Just his._

A floppy-haired, young (is he having a mid-life crisis?) man, dressed in tweed of all things (that stuff itches!) and decorated with a ridiculous bow-tie follows closely behind. The couple exchanges a final kiss before Rose heads into the direction of the Powell Estate.

"I can feel you, you know," tweed-man says, staring up at the sky.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Crossing your own time-line repeatedly!" the pin-striped Doctor huffs and crosses his arms.

"I think, I'm standing in the street, having an argument with myself. Before, I had a pretty amazing date. Did you know, that the Mandarin Oriental offers delicious banana-cupcakes? You should really try them. This body," he gestures at his former self, arms jerking wildly up and down, "had a bigger craving on them than mine. Make me some good memories."

"Cupcakes?! You're crossing my time-line and now you're discussing cupcakes?" His voice is getting louder, sounding strained and high-pitched.

"That's not correct. I was only making a suggestion. It's you, who's getting on about the cupcakes. And to be entirely accurate: I'm crossing Rose's time-line. _You _were the one looking for a future version of himself."

"It's not as if I fancy putting up with you," the dark-haired alien scoffs.

"Quite right. So, how exactly can I help you? I am you, so I know you are jealous, which is frankly ridiculous. Rose's understanding about our identity is amazing. May I remember you, that we are in fact the same person?"

"So she prefers your pretty face?"

"Oh, don't give me that. I really had some vanity issues in your body," the man in the tweed jacket growls impatiently.

"Same person?! I'll regenerate into an idiot!" the skinny Doctor barks out.

"Oh, don't fool yourself. You don't need to regenerate to get to that point," the green-eyed man replies casually. "Rose loves us. Any of us. How long did it take her to realise that you are you? We went from grumpy old big ears to skinny pretty boy and she stayed. How many of them stayed through the regeneration with us, hmm? Your stupid vanity will force us to give up on her. It's not the other way around."

"I want you to shove off! Whenever you stuck your nose into my life, I feel time constricting around me. Possibilities die off, choices become impossible. Your mere presence is choking me. You, in my time-line, fixes time. I don't know what is going to happen, but you coming back, makes it impossible to change my future for the better!"

"There is no better! The only way to prevent what's coming for her would be leaving her here. But you can't do that, can you? We take what we need and when we're done, we move on. That's us. You'd better start accepting it." The elder Doctor studies his younger self features wearily. "I know you are looking for clues and you are thinking about using _it_. Leave it and make sure I have some good memories." Tapping his temples he adds softly, "You know, she doesn't die but she's not ours to keep either."

"I found a hint," he bites back. "A book from the near future about a nurse called Redfern. Interesting is, that the book has references to my life. It's all a bit fantastic, lacks the greater understanding for time-travel and science, which is to be expected." He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts pacing. "But it's not a lie. One page is dedicated to Rose. It briefly retells a love-story and a separation by a wall."

"Pyramus and Thisbe," he chuckles mirthlessly. "I promise, you'll despise white walls. They'll hunt your dreams. They'll swallow her, swallow time and maybe one day, they'll swallow you. There's nothing we can do. Go on, enjoy it as long as you can and make it worthwhile. It's ending soon. You have no idea, how happy and lucky you are right now. There's so much darkness ahead."

The Doctor with the bow-tie leaves his younger self behind, Satan's pit lies before him and there's nothing he can do about it. Prophesies always relate to fixed points in time; that's the reason knowledge on them leaks through.

Another, more selfish reason keeps him from acting, though. He's never ready to die. Never was and never will be. Nor is he ready to fade from existence, to change who and what he is. With a slight hint of remorse he realises that he has stopped wishing to be a human.


	8. Impossible

He's on an impossible planet.

The only home he ever had in his 900year long existence, is lost. He thought she was a constant in his life – his TARDIS; she's gone.

He's on an impossible planet.

The planet should have fallen into a black hole a long time ago. It didn't.

He's still alive. She's still alive. There's still some hope left. He rather likes hope.

He's on an impossible planet.

They talks about a future never to happen. A future including houses and carpets, a picket-fence and a job. He doesn't do domestic. It's boring, it's ordinary, it's...he looks at her and considers having an entirely different adventure.

He has duties – it's impossible.

He's on an impossible planet.

He's falling, falling, falling. Deeper, deeper, deeper...the pit doesn't seem to have a ground. He's falling through a darkness beyond compare. The blackness surrounds him, cocoons him. It's everywhere and everywhen. It always was and is and will be and swallows his entire being. There's no time: no before and no after and no now. He's a mind drifting through nothingness.

The fall ends, eventually. Everything ends – but not the Doctor.

Not yet.

The universe surprises him; that hardly happens nowadays. He's seen to much, travelled too much, lost too much. It hurts, the universe hurts, hurt, keeps hurting, will hurt him, has hurt him...

Not today.

He's on an impossible planet.

The beast in the pit promises she will be ripped from him and he refuses to believe him – he rather believes in _her_.

For once, his faith is not betrayed: he finds his TARDIS, he reunites with her and when they ask him who they are, he tells the truth.

"_The stuff of legends."_

He's back on the TARDIS and his Rose is safely tucked away in her bed – he wishes he could keep her there: hidden in the endless depths of his ship, _forever_.

Just like she promised – but he can't, can he? It's _impossible._

He hates that word. It has no meaning to him. It only means that he _shouldn't _do something, _mustn't _ something because if the consequences. It doesn't mean he _can't_.

But keeping her would be cruel and it isn't what she agreed to when she naively made her vow of "forever". There are ways to gain true immortality, though.

He killed his own kind, preventing them from gaining this twisted, abhorrent kind of immortality. There are creatures without bodies – only a mind, floating through time and space, unaware of their surroundings as neither time nor space have any meaning to them. They just _are_.

She could become one of them – she could stay with him.

He firmly pushes the thought away as he gently strokes her bare skin. He really, really likes her body. Touching her, caressing her, feeling her hands in his hair, her lips on his skin is part of the pleasure. It's not something he is willing to give up; unless he has to. He'd rather give up her body than _her_.

He knows he doesn't deserve any pleasure – not after what he did. A man who killed billions, doesn't deserve to be loved. And yet, he is being loved. Unconditionally.

She would have rather died on that planet than leave him behind and that knowledge fires his ego, his vanity, his pride. The human in his bed won't leave him; he's certain of that now. His Rose (and there is no doubt she is really _his_) is not going anywhere.

They all came and go, his companions, and they all left at some point in his long life. None of them was willing to stay so adamantly at his side – but she is. She isn't his companion; she's something unique.

Despite his infidelity, despite his madness,despite his age, despite his cruelty – she isn't leaving and he started believing her whenever she vows to _stay_.

He wants her desperately to keep her promise but he knows she won't. Meeting his future self was the first hint that his days with her are numbered; the beast is the second hint.

The prophesy of her death terrifies him.

Of course, he doesn't believe in God or the Devil or angels and demons; so one could think he wouldn't pay attention to a simple threat. But there is a difference between a threat and a prophesy and he can tell the beast wasn't lying: it referred to a fixed point in time.

Fixed points in time must be evaded at any cost: all attempts of meddling, changing are doomed to fail. The Consequences are devastating at best. Even considering it, is insane. Though, changing fixed points is not impossible; he did it before and the universe didn't cease to exist – barely.

There is a device able to change on fixed moment in time. Just one. You have to know _exactly _which moment is the crucial one – down to a split second, there is absolutely no room for impreciseness.

They say the device has a conscience and it operates only when you are given permission. He doesn't know if that's true; it has been dormant ever since it fell into his possession. It's funny he can't recall when, why and where he got it; only knows it was there when the War ended.

"Come back to bed," Rose tells him sleepily. "What are you doing here anyway?" She glances around the messy storage room. The Time Lord is sitting on the floor, eyes trained intently on a dusty wooden box. The rectangular object is decorated with various clockworks and he's trying to figure out it's mechanism. She wipes the dust off the object's surface and sits down on it, too exhausted to stand a moment longer.

"Don't sit on that!" he yelps horrified.

"Why not?" she asks stubbornly.

"It's the most dangerous weapon in the universe – not some bloody seat!"

"Yeah? Looks to me as if it serves both purposes just fine," she snaps back cheekily but obediently stands up. He has a strong sense of deja-vu. Has he ever had a similar conversation?

"Are you serious, this is a weapon?" Rose asks, shrugging off her weakness and replacing it with her infinite curiosity.

"They said so," he answers, a bit unsure.

"Doesn't feel like a weapon, though," she comments thoughtfully.

"_Feel_?" His tone is incredulous – he isn't feeling anything around the box.

"Yeah, that thing feels just like the TARDIS; a soft buzz in my head as soon as I touch it. It's actually quite nice. I'd say friendly, even," she smiles reassuringly at him.

"I can't feel anything." That's definitely not jealousy in his voice. "Still, they said it's a weapon."

"They?" She tilts her head.

"The Time Lords. This box is supposed to change a fixed point in time. But it's broken, kaput, no functionado," he sighs wearily.

"You'd want to alter time?" She arches her eyebrows suspiciously. The alien stares at her, face an unreadable, stony mask. His eyes are dark and unguarded, baring endless, all-engulfing pain and loss to the young naïve human but she never shies away, holds his gaze. Her face spreads into a huge grin and she giggles. "Like a genie – just, it only grants you one wish."

"I will wish for something then," he admits so solemnly her laughter dies in her throat.

"You said the beast lied," she tells him confidently and he snorts. "Doctor-," she says softly, "whatever this is, it's meant to save the universe."

"_I _ save this universe!" he yells out so loud his voice echoes through the space-ship. "I. I. I. I keep this universe running. I saved it over and over again. You wouldn't even exist if not for me!" He scoots his hands through his thick, luscious hair with such vehemence he almost rips out a strand. "And who saves me? Who?" he trails off and stares at the wall, trying to regain his composure. "I need you and I won't lose you. I can't." His voice breaks and he looks utterly defeated.

"You won't," she promises and wraps him up in her warm arms.

Only three weeks later, Rose is gone.


End file.
